Sweet Tooth
by Simply-Cath
Summary: Final chapter. Roman learns a very valuable lesson.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Sweet Tooth  
AUTHOR: Simply Cath  
DISTRIBUTION: Get my permission first.  
RATING: T  
CONTENT: m/m flirting, bad language, drunken carousing.  
SPOILERS: None  
SUMMARY: Dean's a revealing drunk.  
NOTES: My first Death fic. I don't think it'll be the last.

Sweet Tooth  
By: Simply_Cath

Seth's gaze travelled towards the window; it was still raining. He looked at the TV; same shitty Steve Austin movie was still playing. He glanced at his ankle - still swollen. He knew a sprain like this was barely a blip on the wrestling injury radar, but that didn't make it any less annoying. He looked outside again, the rain hadn't stopped. Seth blew a raspberry at Mother Nature.

"What was that, honey?"

Rollins nearly dropped the phone that was pressed against his ear. "Huh? Oh, nothing, Mom; it's getting late here and I have an early flight in the morning. I'll call you when I touch down, okay? Yeah, goodnight, love you."

He hung up and tossed the phone over his shoulder. It hit the front of his bag, then bounced to the floor. Seth rolled his eyes, then glanced at the clock. It was ten to midnight. He scrubbed a hand over his face and shut off the TV. Seth stood up awkwardly and went into the washroom. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, tying his hair back into a loose ponytail.

A crack of lightning illuminated the path back to his bed. Seth felt each of the pillows, testing their hardness in turn, not surprised when they were all too damned fluffy. Huffing under his breath, he grabbed two and placed them at the foot of the bed. He pulled back the scratchy, old, over startched comforter and sprawled out. The mattress squeaked like a rusty hinge with each breath he took.

Lightning cracked. His phone rang again.

"Stop ringing, stop ringing, stop ringing... goddamnit." Seth limped over to his phone and checked the number, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, what?"

"Seth," Dean's voice was slurred, making it sound like there was more than one 'h' at the end of his name. "What's up?"

"I'm sleeping, Dean," Seth gritted out. "What do you want?"

"Nah, see, if you were sleepin' then it woulda gone to voice mail. So you're awake. And I'm drunk. And Roman took the car back to the hotel and he was my ride and honestly? There is no one here I wanna fuck enough to spend the night with so come get me?"

Seth scrubbed a hand over his forehead. "Dean, take a cab, man, seriously."

"Nah, you're right, I can walk it."

"It's pouring outside." Seth sat on the edge of the bed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Which bar are you at? I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Growling a curse under his breath, Seth hung up and started rooting around for some clothes. "Lousy stupid drunken teammates. Stupid fucking rain storm. Goddamn stupid early flight tomorrow, ow! Stupid fucking ankle." He trailed off into incoherent grumbling as he grabbed his wallet and jacket, and headed towards his rental car.

Several minutes later found Seth making his way through the crowd. The bass thumped so loud it felt like his ribs might shatter. He made his way across the mostly empty dance floor. Seth started at the most crowded table and started to work his way down. He found Dean within a few minutes. "Ambrose, you ready to go?"

Dean looked from side to side until his eyes landed on Seth and a slow grin spread across his face. "C'mon, you're just in time for another round."

Seth sighed; at least Dean still had his clothes on. "Dean, you asked me to pick you up, remember? Now get your shit and let's get moving."

Dean had this way of rolling his eyes that involved his entire head. "Yeah, yeah, fine." He threw a couple of bills on the counter, grabbed his jacket and put his arms around Seth's shoulders.

At least the rain had eased up, turning into more of a fine mist than pounding rain. Dean tilted his head up and closed his eyes. He parted his lips and caught a couple of drops on his tongue. When he caught Seth looking at him, he frowned. "What? I'm still thirsty. You're the one who dragged me out here."

"You're the one who called me!" Seth muttered, shaking his head. "Get your ass in the-" He sighed heavily. "Dean, put your shirt back on."

"Shut up, it was hot in there."

"Dean, just..." Rollins shook his head. He did his best not to react when Ambrose grabbed a very generous portion of his ass. "Get in the damn car before I decide to make your drunk ass walk to the hotel." Seth threw the passenger door open for him, then made his way to the driver's side.

"Anyone ever tell you you're kind of a bitch?" Dean wriggled and squirmed like a bad dancer as he fumbled for the buckle. "Hang on, I got this. Stupid fucker keeps moving."

Seth sighed. He leaned over and knocked Dean's limp fingers aside. Grasping the buckle, he brought the seatbelt down across Dean's chest and hips, popping it into the lock. In the rearview mirror, he caught sight of a smirk on Dean's face.

Rollins buckled himself in and started on the drive home. Pausing at yet another red light, he turned to check on Dean, expecting to see him asleep. He drew back in surprise when bright blue eyes stared back at him. "What?"

"You're candy, you know that?"

"Yes, Dean, I'm candy. What the hell were you drinking tonight, anyway?"

"I lost track after the liquid cocaine shots." Dean shook his head. "No, no, no, listen. You're like candy. I'm right about this. You're pretty. Your hair is funny coloured. You look sweet. I bet you taste sweet, too." Dean leaned closer, only to be brought up short by the seatbelt. "Motherfucker." He moved to unbuckle it, then jerked back into the seat when Seth slammed down on the accelerator. "How come you never wanna make out?"

"I would love to, Dean."

Dean's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. "So let's find a place and go-"

"The only time you ever hit on me is when you're blind drunk. I won't be your stand-in rat just because you want to stick your dick in something. Trust me, you won't even remember this in the morning."

Dean's lips pursed. "You're wrong."

Seth cruised to a stop and cursed the latest red light. "Dean?" He looked over at his passenger. Ambrose was out cold, his cheek pressed against the window. His lips were parted ever so slightly, creating a foggy patch on the glass. Goosebumps had started to spring up on Dean's bare arms. Seth turned up the heat and directed the vents at the sleeping man.

The underground parking lot was deserted. Seth grabbed Dean's shirt and tossed it into the blonde's lap. "Get dressed, Ambrose."

"Huh?" Dean slipped his shirt on. "What-? Oh, oh right." He grinned. "You really are pretty. And sweet. You are totally candy."

"And you're totally wasted." Seth opened the passenger door and guided Dean out. When Ambrose lurched to the right, Rollins slid an arm around his waist to keep him on track.

Dean leaned in, and ran the flat of his tongue up Seth's neck, all the way to the underside of his jaw. "I was right. Sweet."

"Damnit, Ambrose," Seth hissed, closing his eyes. His nails dug into Dean's hip and he did his best to ignore the way Dean gasped right in his ear. "You suck sometimes."

"Yeah," Dean shrugged one shoulder. "Sometimes. I'm good at it."

Seth closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to dislodge the mental images. "Damnit, Dean." He started walking at a brisk pace. Aside from a few stumbles, Dean was able to keep up with him reasonably well. He stabbed the button for the elevator, then guided Dean inside and hit the button for the eighteen floor.

"Rollins?"

He made it a point to keep staring at the numbers flickering upwards on the screen. "Yeah?"

"I'm not going anywhere. You can let go, man."

Seth looked down and realized he still had his grip on Dean's waist. "Yeah, well, I-" He swallowed hard. When the doors dinged and slid open, Seth guided Dean to his room. He knew from past experience that trying to get Dean's room number out of him when he was in this state was pretty much pointless.

He paused in front of his door and reached into his back pocket for his wallet, swatting Dean's hand away. "I don't need your help, Dean."

Dean chuckled into his ear. "I wasn't trying to help." He leaned even closer, his lips nearly brushing Seth's ear as he started to sing. "I want candy. I want candy..."

Glancing around to make sure there weren't any wayward fans with cameras, Seth swiped the card through as quickly as he could and nearly shoved Dean inside. He kicked off his shoes and set his wallet and phone on the coffee table. By the time he turned back, Dean was standing there, naked. Seth glanced at the floor, but saw no sign of his clothes. "How did you-? I don't want to know. Come on, Dean." For the umpeenth time, Rollins cursed Dean's ability to make his clothes disappear. Seth guided the blond over to the bed and gave him a light shove, forcing him to sit at the edge. "Wait here." He returned a few minutes later with a glass of water and a couple of aspirin. With a little coaxing, he got Dean to take them both. "Goodnight, Dean."

He was brought up short when Dean gripped his wrist. "Dean-"

"I don't have a lotta people in my life, you know?" Ambrose looked out the window, at the ceiling, down at their hands, anywhere but Seth's face. "It's like, as soon as someone knows me, they ditch me. As soon as someone can hurt me, they do. So I try not to let-" He licked his lips. "You're different. You've always... even when I fuck up, you're there. You and Rome. I screw up or I say the wrong thing or I keep staring at your ass and it's okay, you know? Like for the first time in my life I can fuck up and it won't be the end of things. And that's-" He paused, took a deep breath and looked into Seth's eyes. What he saw there inspired him to continue. "That means a lot to me. It's really cool."

It was Seth's turn to break eye contact. He looked down at their hands. "I hear you, Dean."

"And that's great, because I won't ever stop staring at your ass. Because it's really nice. And this whole teasing thing really has to stop one of these days and at the rate I'm going, I'm going to have to change my right hand's name to Seth."

A laugh bubbled past Seth's lips and he shoved Dean back down on to the bed.

By the time Seth changed back into his boxer briefs, the soft sound of Dean's snoring filled the air. Seth shook his head and stretched out on the couch, falling asleep instantly.

"Goddamn motherfucking alarm," Seth muttered, sitting up. He rolled his shoulders, then scratched his bare stomach. Taking a deep breath in, the smell of coffee hit his nose and he let out a huge sigh.

Dean was there, dressed in the same clothes he'd worn last night, looking surprisingly awake and aware. "Morning, Rollins. Coffee's ready. Rome texted; he's gonna meet us in half an hour for breakfast. Shower's yours if you want it."

"Yeah, thanks." Seth combed a hand through his hair and got to his feet. He threw on a pair of jeans and went over to the coffee machine, surprised to see a cup already poured for him. He took a sip of coffee and nearly purred, closing his eyes as he savored the warmth travelling down to his stomach. "Mmm. Where are we gonna eat?"

"Doesn't matter to me. I already know what I want."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

When Seth opened his eyes, Dean was practically forehead to forehead with him. Seth's eyes were drawn to Dean's lips.

Dean planted his hands on the counter, bracketing Seth's hips. He leaned in close, his breath puffing into Seth's ear. "I want candy."

THE END

Hope you all enjoy it.

Cath


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Sweet Tooth

AUTHOR: Simply Cath

DISTRIBUTION: Get my permission first.  
DISCLAIMER: These guys belong to themselves, names belong to WWE, I'm not making any money off this.  
RATING: T CONTENT: m/m flirting, bad language, drunken carousing.  
SPOILERS: None

SUMMARY: Seth discovers a new form of taxation.

Sweet Tooth By: Simply_Cath

"Well," Seth planted his hands on the table top, his lips curving into an absolutely wicked grin. "This round's on me. Beer for me and Roman, iced tea for Dean." He pushed off the table and started for the bar, staggering a step to the left before righting himself.

"Rat bastard son of a bitch," Dean muttered. "I'm the alcoholic of the group, how the hell did I wind up Designated Driver?"

"You just answered your own question." Roman offered, tipping his head back to get the last few drops out of his beer. He wasn't that thirsty, but it was worth it for the look on Dean's face.

Seth leaned against the bar, waiting his turn. He felt someone grab his wrist and looked down. "Hey."

"Seth," Summer grinned at him, her face flush with what Seth had to guess was a few drinks. She held a tall thin glass, inside was something bright green and probably full of liquor. "Dance with me."

Rollins looked over at his teammates who were engaged in deep conversation about something. He weighed his options and plucked the drink from her hand. "Dance Tax." He explained, before she could open her mouth. "You wanna dance, you buy me a drink."

Summer pursed her lips, looking him up and down, before nodding. "Dance Tax?"

"Dance Tax."

"Dance Tax!" She tightened her grip around his free hand and dragged him on to the dance floor, Rollins sipping the drink hurriedly as he started dancing. It was a fast song with a good beat and she knew what she was doing. Seth gave her a quick salute and started off the floor.

Nikki was by the dance floor. "Wanna dance?" Her drink was redder than the lipstick she wore.

Panting, Seth pointed at her glass. "Dance Tax."

She looked at him in surprise, arched an eyebrow and handed it over.

Seth's fingers, chilled from the drink, closed around her wrist as he lead her on to the floor.

* * *

"All right. Guess the Diva or the drink color." Dean's eyes skimmed the dance floor as Seth staggered back out.

"Hmm," Reigns considered is options. "I'll say Cameron and pink." Roman blinked as he spotted a new detail. "Seth wasn't wearing a tie when he came in."

"Nope."

"So who's-?"

"Hell if I know."

The Divas were huddled in a group as if they were deciding on football plays.

"He's pretty trashed," Roman said. "Think we should put a stop to this?"

"Nah, let him have his fun."

Lana walked up to Seth. In her hands was a glass roughly the size of a punch bowl, containing something bright purple.

Dean and Roman looked at each other. "Purple."

* * *

Dean looked at his watch. It had been an hour since Roman had gotten a lift back to the hotel with his cousins. He stepped out on to the dance floor.

He finally found Seth holding on to a fake palm tree, looking down at his feet as if he'd never seen them before.

"Come on, Legs, you've had enough." Dean put an arm around his waist, but Seth refused to budge.

"Dean?" Seth blinked. "Are we dancing or is the floor moving on its own?"

"Yeah, you're done." Dean put Seth's arm around his shoulders and started heading out the door, snatching a water bottle off a waitress' tray.

The cool night air made Seth jump and he grinned. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Seth?"

Seth grinned. "Dance Tax."

Dean chuckled and nodded to their coworkers, heading out to the car. The wind sent a few leaves dancing across the parking lot and Seth craned his neck to watch them until they lay still again. He reached into his back pocket for his keys, then swatted Seth's hand aside. "Quit it. I don't need your help."

"Wasn't trying to help." Seth gave Dean what he hoped was a sexy look, only to frown as the blond started laughing. "What?"

"You want the front or back?"

Seth leaned in to lick Dean's neck, but wound up getting the collar of his shirt instead. "I wanna be where you are."

Dean opened up the back seat and nodded when Seth crawled in and sprawled on his back with a groan. "Dean?" He murmured. "I'm very into... inta... drunktoxicated."

"Enjoy it, buddy."

"Dance Tax is the best tax."

"Tell me that tomorrow."

Dean tuned the radio to a classic rock station. Checking to see that Seth wasn't paying attention, he laid his foot on the gas, then had to slam down on the brake with both feet or risk running a red.

The shocks were bouncing so hard Dean began to wonder if he'd broken something. "Stupid cheap fuckin' rent-" The words faded from his lips when he found the cause.

Sprawled out in the back, one leg pressed against the seats and the other foot resting on the floor, was Seth. His hands beat wildly against the air as he continued drumming. A blond strand clung to his sweat slicked cheek and his lips were curled with a determination Dean had only seen during match preparation.

Dean bit down on his knuckle to stifle the laughter that wanted to erupt. He waited for a pause before speaking up."You're pretty good," Dean said with a straight face. "Slater's always looking for some new band members. I'm sure he'd sign you up."

"That would be..." Seth stared up at the roof, as if he could see the whole thing playing out on it. His lips parted in awe. "That would be awesome!"

A horn blasted behind them. Dean rolled his eyes and started back to the hotel.

At the next red light, Seth grabbed the back of Dean's seat and hauled himself up into a sitting position. "Dean," Seth nodded. "Dean, I kinda wanna make out with someone tonight. The right someone. Or maybe three of the wrong someones. But I wanna make out with you, okay?" He scooted to the edge of the seat, his fingers settling on Dean's hips as if they were on a motorcycle.

"Yeah, I could live with that." Dean turned to catch Seth's lips, only to jump when the horn blared behind them again. "Goddamn cocksucking son of a bitch, I swear to god-! There's two lanes, asshole, you wanna pass me, then fucking pass me already."

Thankfully the driver seemed to have the same idea.

Dean raised his middle finger high, then quickly added the rest of his fingers in an awkward wave as Stephanie McMahon gunned past him.

Seth fell back in his seat, holding his stomach. Each time he started to say something, laughter would overtake him again.

"Oh you think that's funny, huh?"

Seth nodded.

Six deliberately hit potholes later and Seth was sprawled out on his side, making pitiful noises.

* * *

"Rollins," Ambrose muttered as he again pulled Seth close to him. "I swear to god, if you don't shut up-"

"I think we should f-"

Dean brought his hand across Seth's mouth, refusing to budge it even when Seth started licking his fingers. He made his way through the lobby, paying no attention to coworkers or fans with cameras.

It was only when the doors closed behind them that he let go, wiping his hand on his jeans. He leaned against the far wall, watching the numbers go up.

"Dean, wanna Dance Tax with me?"

"I think you've had enough."

"B-but you're you. You get a special Dance Tax."

"Oh I do, do I?"

Seth licked his lips. "See, there was this chick in college. She bought this tape, right. Like I figure, eh, whatever, it's one of those stupid aerobics things, right?" He shook his head. "It was a strippercise one."

Dean turned to look at him.

Seth grinned. "So we got drunk and tried it out. I was way better. But that'll be two drinks, 'cause you're not supposed to know about that."

"Maybe a couple more drinks wouldn't hurt."

* * *

The sunlight was beating ferociously on his eyelids. Seth groaned and covered his head with his pillow. "Ugh." Someone pulled his blanket off and he grimaced. "Fugoff."

"Up, Rollins."

He heard the rustle of the curtains and pulled the pillow away. Scrubbing a hand over his crusted over eyes, Seth took in his surroundings. Typical hotel room. Dean stomping around like a goddamn elephant, and - he blinked. Seth got to his feet, walking as though he'd forgotten how to do it. He reached the back of the couch and grabbed his pants. "What the hell?"

Dean's grinning face pocked out from the bathroom door; the toothpaste around his lips made him look like a friendly, rabid dog. "Dance Tax is the best tax."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Yawning, Seth walked over to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup. He leaned against the counter, waiting for his brain to catch up.

By the time Dean stepped out of the shower, Seth had a look of vague horror on his face. "I didn't?"

"Didn't what? Strip? You started to. You tripped getting your pants off, face planted and passed out in the carpet."

Seth groaned and sank down to the floor.

Dean swiped Seth's coffee and sat down next to him. "I'll make sure you're sober next time I ask." Dean pressed his lips to Seth's temple.

"Dude, that is never happening."

Ambrose grinned. "Like Dibiase says, everybody's got a price. Yours just happens to be your weight in girly drinks."

Seth groaned and rested his head against the dresser. "I hate you."

THE END

* * *

Two down, one Shield member to go!

Cath


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Sweet Tooth AUTHOR: Simply Cath DISTRIBUTION: Get my permission first.  
DISCLAIMER: These guys belong to themselves, names belong to WWE, I'm not making any money off this.  
RATING: K+ CONTENT: m/m flirting, m/m groping, mild revenge, drunken cockblocking, bad language, implied drunken sex, mild mind games SPOILERS: None SUMMARY: Do not ever, under any circumstances, cockblock Seth Rollins.

* * *

Roman checked his phone one last time before pausing at the door to Dean and Seth's hotel room. He hesitated.

"What's the matter?" Summer peeked over his shoulder. "Door busted?"

"No," Roman said. "It's Dean and Seth's room. Even if I knock, they don't always hear it. And then I see more of them than anyone should."

"Gotcha." Summer nodded. "I could check on them if you want."

Roman looked over at her with an arched eyebrow. She grinned in response. "I got it."

"You're no fun. Later." Summer patted his shoulder and headed to the elevator.

Roman shook his head. When the coast was clear, he pressed his ear to the door.

"Where do you want it?"

"Little lower," he heard Seth's response. "To the right a touch... ohhh, right there."

Reigns pounded on the door four times. "I'm opening the door in five seconds. Cover up whatever you don't want me to see." Counting down in his head, Roman slid the key through the lock. He stared up at the ceiling as he took two steps into the room.

Glancing over at his friends, Roman blinked at the sight. Seth was stretched out on his stomach wearing work out pants, a heating pad pressed to his lower back, head turned towards the window. Dean had his back against the headboard, his left knee was propped up with an ice pack.

Seth chuckled. "What did you think you were going to walk in on?"

"The same thing I've walked in on half a dozen times before."

"Disappointed?" Dean arched an eyebrow.

"Hardly," Roman shook his head. "It's Jimmy and Jey's birthday, you guys want to join us?"

"We're good." Dean said, resting his hand on Seth's shoulder. "Maybe we'll catch up later."

"Right, see you tomorrow."

* * *

From the corner of his eye, Seth watched the credits crawl up the screen. He looked over at Dean, who seemed way more into counting the cracks on the ceiling. Seth swallowed. "How's the knee feeling?"

"Ice melted about ten minutes ago." Dean's eyes wandered the bare length of Seth's back, pausing at the bright white heating pad. "How's the back?"

"Plenty warm."

Dean tossed the ice pack aside, running his chilled fingertips down the length of Seth's back. When the shiver stopped, he trailed lower, underneath the icepack, his fingers creating bumps in the fabric as they dipped below the band of Seth's pants. "How about now?"

"Getting warmer." Seth shut his eyes, then turned off the heating pad, rolling on his side. "I'm guessing you don't want to watch another movie."

Dean lunged in, pinning the two toned man to the mattress, then straddled his waist. His fingers found their way to Seth's hair, to drag him into a slow kiss. He grinned against Rollins' mouth when he felt a hand on the small of his back.

Seth groaned as Dean started rocking against him, his cock stirring almost immediately at the contact. "Mmm, Dean..."

"Like it when you say my name like that," Dean rasped into his ear, nipping the lobe. "Movie's over," Ambrose nodded to the screen. "We could always make one of our own."

A laugh fell from Seth's lips. "Dean, that was so lame it's a wonder you don't walk with a limp."

Dean grinned.

Rolling his eyes, Seth pulled him in for another kiss, then, with a shift of his hips, rolled them so that he was on top, his hair falling across their faces. Fastening his lips to Dean's neck, he undid the blonde's jeans before easing his fingers inside, stroking the rapidly hardening length.

The door beeped.

Seth yelped and followed standard protocol: throwing himself off Dean, trying like hell to look casual, even as he scowled.

Roman stumbled in, staring at them like he'd never seen them before. "This..." Roman blinked a few times. "This is not my room."

"Sure isn't, big guy." Seth clenched his hand into a fist. "Come on, I'll take you back to your room." His shoulders sagged as he heard Dean's zipper going back up.

"Nah." Reigns sat down on the foot of their bed, kicking off his shoes so hard he nearly knocked over a lamp. "Here's fine."

"Good birthday?" Dean had to avoid looking at Seth, or he'd burst out laughing at the put-out expression on Rollins' face. He was pretty sure that would get him thrown from the balcony.

Roman smirked. "Great party." He fell back on to the mattress. "Good bed."

"Come on, Roman, you..." Seth's words fell quiet as Roman's snore cut through the air.

Huffing, Seth got to his feet and headed for the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked.

"Shower." Seth snapped through gritted teeth. "Cold shower."

Ten minutes later and Seth stared at his nails, now blue tinged from the cold. Teeth chattering, he shut off the spray and toweled himself off. He stepped back into his sweats, then out into the main part of the hotel room, the noise of his feet swallowed by the thin, cheap carpet.

Roman was in the middle of the bed, wearing only his jeans.

Dean was sitting up on the left side of bed, offering only a shrug.

"You're both fuckers." Seth muttered, running a hand through his hair, then flicking the cold drops at Roman. The passed out son of a bitch didn't even have the courtesy to flinch.

Seth growled and lay down. "Bastard cockblocks me and doesn't even have the courtesy to take the couch."

* * *

The next morning, Roman rolled on to his back and groaned as he threw his arm over his eyes. One thought passed through his mind: Who was running a chainsaw?

Finally, his curiosity overwhelmed the headache and he opened his eyes, frowning when he realized it was just Dean snoring.

Wait, what?

Wincing at the creaking mattress, Roman sat up, taking stock of the situation. He was in Dean and Seth's room and the shower was running. That explained where Seth was. That did not explain how he'd wound up in their bed, mostly naked.

Ambrose huffed and threw his arm across the newly freed real estate on the bed.

Roman got to his feet slowly, grabbing his shirt where it had been tossed on to the back of the couch. As he pulled it on, he heard Seth's voice. "Oh, you're up."

"Yeah," Roman blinked against the harsh sunlight. "Yeah." He frowned. "Sorry for barging in here." Reigns winced and headed to the coffee maker, starting a full pot. "How did I-?"

"Do last night?" Seth shrugged. "You were pretty good."

Roman stared at him. "What?"

Seth turned his back to Reigns. "You know the old saying: 'All it takes to turn a straight guy gay is a six pack?' You certainly proved it last night."

Roman shook his head. "I didn't... we ..."

"We tried to tell you no, but you were very... insistent." Seth started to brush his hair. "Hell, you wore Dean right out."

Reigns looked over at Ambrose who had now sprawled across the entire bed starfish style, wearing just a pair of ... nothing. He wasn't wearing anything. Roman looked away quickly. "No, no, there's no way, Seth I wouldn't..."

"You were all over it last night. Wouldn't take no for an answer. Not that we minded."

Roman sat down on the couch, his head in his hands. "Rollins, Seth, man... this can't... whatever happened in here last night, it wasn't... I mean... nobody can know. That's not who I am, man."

"Too late for that, I think," Seth shrugged. "Probably going to be a few noise complaints at the front desk. For a quiet guy, you're really vocal." Seth turned on the hair dryer.

For a long time, Roman could only watch the progress of the coffee pot, his mind desperately trying to piece together the events of the night before. Lots of shots, lots of drinks, Seth and Dean in bed... He buried his head in his hands.

"Hey man." Dean sat up, scratching his belly. "How'd you sleep?"

Roman shook his head.

"Dude, what's wrong?" Ambrose stretched his arms to the ceiling, grunting in satisfaction as his spine cracked in a couple places.

"Oh, I think Roman is starting to regret last night."

Dean made a dismissive gesture with his hand, easing out of bed so he could root around for some clothes. "Greasy breakfast, pot of coffee and you'll be fixed right up."

"How can you just blow this off?" Roman snapped.

Dean looked over, shrugging one shoulder. "What?"

"What..." Realizing he was yelling, Roman lowered his voice. "What happened last night," he hissed.

"Dude, you came in here and passed out. No big."

"So we didn't-?" Roman gestured between them, then cocked his head in the direction of the bathroom.

"Didn't-?" Dean snorted. "Like I said, you came in here and passed out. Where did you get that idea?"

Seth walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed. "Reigns," he said firmly, underscored by the sound of Dean's laughter. "Don't ever cockblock me again."

THE END


End file.
